this track is a an interpretation of fictional characters based on actions of certain individuals in the video game world whether game characters or the gamers who play the game.
listeners discretion is advised.
lyrics
So I'ma run up in there swiftly and blasting quite casually/a surgeon with the tooly and blasting past casualties/ hazardous to targets, precise and mad accurate/ trigger finger focused my brain just won't wait/ it's like every time I get assigned the ammo never measure/ but it's actually how skill is matched, instincts act with pleasure/ this game is never fair in fact I know I got less rounds than them/ but then again I'm focused every point connects brain stem/ they got semi automatics, some frags and mad smoke/ I got double desert eagles, two clips, it's no joke/ I'ma let 'em kill a clip, aim then double tap/reset, repeat, relax, re-clap and that's a wrap/ I'm a fucking murderer and it's actually quite wack/ but I'll worry about it later must stay on track/ I'ma go confirm these kills then cop a fat sack/ second place for now that means I'll be back
HOOK: play the gaming, point and aim, tell em "run them credits! Do you really want more?"/ when you got your credits and there ain't no pause, what you really playing for?/ play the game, point and aim, tell 'em "run them credits! Y'all really want more?"/ when you got your credits and there ain't no pause what the fuck you playing for?
Week twenty-one is hectic my paranoia is setting/ I'm an itchy finger gunny set to get back to the getting/ I'm burning through this cheddar like green is the new green/ because I'm burning through opponents like killing's my main gene/ when I blink I think in patterns like life is pacman/ brainstorm a room to pieces and schedules, goddamn/ fiending to be me I'm rocking a monkey suit/ but the zapatos fit so well got me rocking the damn boots/ got me rocking a solo booth, got me rocking a fucking sword just in case I cannot shoot/ this shit could pop off, a gun in the damned mail/ my cauffin's wide open I'm holding the damned nail/ I'm sick of fucking waiting let's cap it out right now/ got a flat line fetish my favorite song is "pow!"/ second place is first loser, ready for the recital/ got a blam clip direction and gunning for that title
HOOK: play the gaming, point and aim, tell em "run them credits! Do you really want more?"/ when you got your credits and there ain't no pause, what you really playing for?/ play the game, point and aim, tell 'em "run them credits! Y'all really want more?"/ when you got your credits and there ain't no pause what the fuck you playing for?
This pretty lady left the area in a panic struggle/ she was just my style, just my luck/ stereotype everything, eyes this, hair that/ mean shoe game and her ass was perfect, fat/ it was just her glaring at me you know?/ I pulled the strap out I was just one rock in the hole, one cap/ my gun said "waist this broad and then fall back"/ I started falling back, faded backwards and actually fell back/ this bitch rushed your boy and produced a jammy from the thin air/ there was no one else around, I tried to blast her out of the thin air/ I grazed her cheek a little and didn't even fucking faze her/ landed on me all frantic and shit and tried to blast me by the dread locks in the air/ tussling with her/ I didn't want to hit this bitch so in fucking headbutt her/ just in time to hear this bitches trigger click/ she ain't have nothing left/ we laughed a little because her tool of choice didn't even pop/ she pulled another from her boot so I took a little off of the top...
Al Tamper is a well rounded artist. Tamper followed his calling to hip hop as a young bboy with a knack for making sure his
name was in as many nooks and crannies of the city as possible. Tamper made himself a resident loiterer at his local independent record label and music production studio.This introduced an influence of a plethora of great practitioners and stars of the DJ and emcee world....more
supported by 5 fans who also own “Gun in the Mail”
Straight raw beats and lyricism is what you can expect when encountering the Oddities. This is Chicago's illest underground Hip-Hop. Don't sleep! Ran Man